Today he helped his Dad with another project - varnishing the gate. He was adamant that he should be involved, particularly when it came time to wash the brush in a little bucket of water. Except that it wasn't water - it was turps - so he wasn't allowed to help. But he insisted, of course. And insisted and insisted. With a very sad face. So, eventually, he got his own brush and own bucket and had a wonderful time washing it and splashing it and painting with the water on the ground.